Without Name or Face: An ANBU Memoir
by Shinim3gami
Summary: Konoha's history from Kyuubi now and beyond from an ANBU captain's POV. Romance AlErT!, tragedy. PLz R & R. I know you guys are reading it....but plz, some feedback or suggestions would be nice!
1. Prologue

Prologue

"We are here today to consecrate the bodies of those who perished in the Siege of Suna; the brave men and women who died in the struggle for our closest ally and ultimately, Konoha itself" the voice drifted off into breeze, carried away like the desert sands.

The desert sun blazed mercilessly overhead – hot and arid. The sand under their feet was like liquid fire, burning and shifting with the breeze. Even on such a day and such occasion, nature would not pay her respects to the dead. Raising a hand to protect her eyes from the glare, Haruno Sakura silently observed the single katana jutting from the ground – the single memory of each jounin, chunin and ANBU who had perished here.

_Consecrate, why?_ She thought, _in a few years, no one will know they even existed…_

She was suddenly reminded of the nameless and faceless ANBU captain, who – in her last moments – had entrusted her with the blood sodden memoirs.

Sakura jumped, feeling a hand wrap around her own; she turned to Uzumaki Naruto standing beside her with forced a smile on her lips.

"_Daijobu desu ka"_ he whispered.

Gently squeezing his hand – the hand she thought she would never hold again – Sakura reassured herself that this was real and that she wasn't in fact dreaming. But most of all the firm grip of his hand was complete assurance her that the nightmare was over; they'd survived it together. Being with him again reminded of just how lucky she was to have endured the ordeal.

He released her hand then wrapped his arm around her and drew her into his arms, "_Aishiteru. Aishiteru."_ he whispered into her silky pink hair.

"Naruto…" she murmured with a smile as she pulled away.

"Now it's finally over…what should we do to celebrate?"

She thought for a moment, "There's one last thing I must do."

"Hmm?"

Sakura reached into her pack and produced a small book. Its blue cover was worn and rusted with blood, "I have to deliver this."

"What is it?"

"Memoirs."

Naruto frowned, "of whom? And why?"

"An ANBU captain handed me this book as she lay dying and requested that it be delivered to her father. They argued the last time she ever saw him. And I suppose she simply couldn't take the resentment to the grave."

He nodded thoughtfully, "how do you propose we find him?"

Sakura shrugged, "to read it I suppose – she left no name, nothing."


	2. Dedication

(a/n)same old same old. No reviews – no more posts

enjoy, don't be disappointed that the ANBU is an OC. As ANBU she's still connected (in the most messed up ways) to various people in Konoha. You'll see.And don't worry, I'll switch back to NaruSaku if you people get bored of Shizu-chan's memoir! hehe.

Presented to: Shizumi Takahashi 

Presented by: Oto-san!

On the Occasion of: Graduation from the Academy; Shizu, you've made me proud


	3. Flyleaf I

Today I graduated from the Academy!

The WHOLE village, okay, almost the whole village, was there to watch Kukai-sensei hand out our forehead protecters. It is so shiny and pretty but wearing it on my head makes me look dumb so I took it off. But oto-sama made me put it back on.

Oto-sama says all proper shinobi wear it that way and he pointed to his forehead.

Then how come Aya-chan gets to wear it around her arm? Isn't she proper?

Oh well...

Today is too happy to waste being angry over small things,

I like this new book – its blue, my favourite colour. Oto-sama says its not plain old blue – it was prsian prs prussian blue. It's still pretty – even if it is prussian. He says I should write down everything I remember for before and everything that happens from today and on.

It's suposed to help me remember who I am.

Haha…oto-sama can be so silly sometimes…

I am me!! Shizumi Takahashi! Of course I remember who I am!

Ah… Oto-sama is calling.

Time to go to Ichiraku's!

Ramen time!!! I LOVE ramen!


	4. Flyleaf II

I did know not whether I ought to laugh or cry when I read that first and only entry for the first time in over ten years.

It is only now I've come to realize that father had been right. When I look back…I realize that I _don't_ remember who I was, or why I existed. Somewhere, somehow – I'd lost comprehension of who I was. And I can no longer boldly pronounce my name to be Shizumi Takashi. Like my comrades and predecessors, I too, had become faceless and nameless.


	5. Okasan

Chapter 1 Oka-san

Mother died today.

Or was it yesterday?

Or was it ten years ago today?

I don't remember.

She is but a blur in my memory.

I stood before the monument at the anniversary of her death (and so many other deaths) having laid upon the cold obsidian stone a bouquet of fresh belladonna lilies. Imanaka-san scoffs when I request them each year, "they're poisonous!" he exclaims. "Poisonous flowers, but beautiful nevertheless." I would reply

Ivory petals set against stark green leaves – – stunning.

So many bouquets – carnations, roses (red, white, pink, yellow), tiger lilies, snapdragons, geraniums, peonies, hydrangea even and many flowers I cannot name – lay atop the many engraved names crawling over the cold black stone.

Were theses also in memory of the loved long since forgotten?

Each time I stand here, I realize that I remember less and less of the woman I fondly called "oka-san". I cannot recall her touch, her embrace or her scent. All mother's have a scent, be it the smell of freshly laundered clothes or the sweet fragrance of honey. But regardless of how hard I tried, I could neither identify nor remember her scent.

Mother was an old, faded and dog eared photograph. I look at it and sometimes wonder whether mother was as beautiful inside as she was externally, for I could no longer recall her tender words – had there been any. The photo I kept pinned on was an old one, taken at her wedding anniversary, a time when I had not yet come into the world. Both mother and father were smiling the photograph. Father had a smile on his face I had not seen in years and mother…. mother had a spectacular smile. Her sea-green eyes sparkled, set in stark contrast against her jet black hair that fell loosely to her waist and framed her perfect porcelain face with its soft ripples.

Mother was the hand made bear that I had so often clutched to my chest when I wept. The 'child' I read stories to. The punch bag I threw against the wall when I was angry – –my dear Tomo-chan. He now occupied a miniscule space on a corner of my cluttered desk. Tomo-chan was missing a big brown hazel eye; his stitching ripped and bits of cotton were falling out his rear end but he was still Tomo-chan. I'd been prompted many times to fix him but each time realized that he was better left alone.

The same way I had taken him for granted, I'd taken mother for granted and while the tattered Tomo-chan sits still on my desk, mother is gone….

I still remember the day she disappeared out of my life forever. Leaving my father a broken man and myself….I don't know what I am….but I i do /i remember that day, with more clarity than i any /i other one of theses naïve childhood days. As if frozen in time – I live that day again and again in my thoughts, my dreams. I relive it out of regret of self-resentment.

It was to be another ordinary at the academy: classes in the morning; training in the afternoon. But afternoon training never did take place. Five minutes into warm-up exercises, we were called by Kukai-sensei to come inside and pack up our things: we had to leave. A hoard of anxious questions followed but none were properly answered. The year one class as well as the entire academy were silently ushered into the academy's basement and through a long dark tunnel. It was to be our home and refuge for the following days to come.

All I remembered of those days was what my sense told me: dark, wet and at night, cold. But the one thing I did remember being huddled up next to Aya-chan and repeatedly being told that "everything would be alright". She was braver than me; braver than most of the boys and she looked after all of us.

Most of us slept through those three days, unwary of what was happening in the world above. Kukai-sensei and the other teachers assured us that it was a mere training exercise and we like good gullible little children, believed them.

But truth be told: Kyuubi appeared in Konoha that very day we were evacuated into the tunnels. His appearance was uninvited, unannounced. No one knew from where he had come or why. But one needn't to reason with a demon of such calibre; it ought to be destroyed. The beast crusaded about and unleashed its terrible power upon the north side of the village and the forest beyond. Parts of the forest had been scorched to their ancient roots and crushed into splinters.

Shinobi from all of Konoha gathered to battle the monster: chuunin and jounin alike. Many perished, but to no avail – Kyuubi was simply too strong. It was not until Yondaime appeared on the back of Gama Bunta, that Kyuubi finally ended his rampage. Defeated not by Yondaime but by the newborn within whom the Kyubi was sealed.

Putting aside the lies, the greater implication of the Kyuubi's appearance had yet to reveal itself to the childhood me – no more than five years of age at the time. For clearer still was the memory of standing at the threshold and peering into an empty house. Tomo-chan clutched tightly in my right arm, I crept into the foyer and kicked off my sandals. The cherry wood floor seemed exceptionally cold and unwelcoming against my stiff limbs, frozen numb from the three days spent underground.

"Oka-san?" I stopped and called out because every other day she would be busy in the kitchen making dinner or cutting pieces of fruit for my afternoon snack. But I could not hear the sound of running water or the "tack tack tack" of the knife as it hit the chopping board: only dead silence.

Clutching Tomo-chan tighter, I slowly made my way to the kitchen. Oto-san was seated at the table, staring blankly out the kitchen window. "Oto-sama?"

Father didn't respond, merely sat there, continuing to stare aimlessly out the window. Something was definitely the matter.

"Oto-sama?!" I yelled louder, gently tugging at his sleeve.

Silence.

"Where's oka-san?"

He turned to me slowly then whispered, "Oka-san is gone"

_Gone?! Where? How could she? –– without me?!_ The little five year old me did not understand the meaning of those words – the foolish of it all – nor the reason why I was confined to my room for the remainder of the evening, cold and hungry.

When mother did not return the follow day or the days thereafter, I slowly came to realize what father had meant by 'gone'. She hadn't simply gone away; mother was really _gone_ – dead. Her death changed my father. He filed a request to be relieved from his position as an ANBU a week after she 'left'; forfeiting both his career and his rights as a shinobi. He shut himself in his room and often would not leave it for days and days on end.

It was through his seclusion that I learned the secrets of cooking: soy sauce wasn't meant to be used by the cupfuls; sugar did not make for an adequate substitute of flour. There was more still, to running a household: food and clothes were finite. Groceries did not magically appear in the fridge and clothes did not wash themselves nor did the floors wipe themselves…the list when on.

And it is through this, I can safely say that no other child could have possibly endured what I had lived.

It was not a simple matter of housework or going to bed some nights, my belly aching with hunger. It was something inside. A void. The place where mother existed was now a hole and father…I was unsure whether, during those days, there was still a place in my heart for him. There was always the aching desire to be loved and to be recognized for who I was, for I received neither comforting words of a mother nor the distinction of being "daddy's little girl". I tried hard and though I cannot say I excelled, I did well in school but always had few friends.

That too, was another scar of my childhood days.

Seclusion, 'othering'…

….yes, I was shunned.

This too was more than the neglect of my classmates.

It was the disgrace of growing up without a mother and having a father with whom one could speak of with only shame and regret. My father _was_ a disgrace. A retired ANBU; a resigned shinobi – he could neither protect the village nor care for his own daughter. The villagers ridiculed him for his incompetence, his selfishness. I am certain that he was well aware of all that was said about him – if the children did – there was no reason for him not to. What business was it to these children? The hostility of their parents toward myself and father soon caught on and my classmates, as a result began to me. I wasn't shunned without reason. I was shunned because my father was a DISGRACE. Disgrace to all of ANBU, to all of Konoha – a quitter, a nobody…

Who wanted to be the child of a "dodger"?

Who wanted to be 'unwanted', 'unneeded'?

Those moments made me feel small, worthless.

And perhaps to an extent I was.

In those days, father would remark my miniscule value, as if living a life of mockery was insufficient….

Why couldn't I excel in my studies at the Academy?

Why wasn't I the best? ( I was second best, falling 2 points behind first)

Why didn't I master even the simplest justsu? (Katon was simple for a 7 year old?)

Because I was the daughter of a failure – that simple fact also made me a failure.

My sole friend through all of these years was Aya. Being several years older, she was the oldest in the class. A clumsy kunoichi but well liked. And like it was with the others, her lack of fineness would not undermine the personal value I placed on her friendship. What did I care for excellence, when I, myself, seemed so far from it?

Fallen so short?

Her encouragement and support helped me survive those moments.

"Don't listen to them"

"How'd you ever think of that? G-E-N-I-U-S!"

"You mean a lot to me, who cares what those idiots have to say?"

"They are S-T-U-P-I-D. Ignore them"

"Shizu-chan! You're totally A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!"

Aya had become mother. She picked me up when I fell; she was my shoulder to weep upon. She partook in all my pains and agonies, put up with my incompetence and shared all of my secrets and I hers.

We were best friends, sisters: inseparable.

It was through Aya, I learned to accept myself. Although I am was not ready to say that I loved myself then, I had taken the first step to coming to terms with my motherless and nearly fatherless childhood. I had taken the first step out of despair and resentment to…. I'm not sure what to – numbness, indifference perhaps – under the assumption that the latter of these emotions were the better.


	6. Kusano

I lay in silence, naked and shivering on my bed long after I'd sent him away. He'd wanted to stay but I told him he couldn't – father…. he understood. Making love left me nauseous again as it always did… It was such a dirty and sickening act… why did they call it 'love making'? It was so primal, so filthy and inhuman.

But some how, every single time, I give in when he touches me this way or kisses me that way. There was something about Kusano that made me weak, made me give into his every desire. Whether it was him or merely loving him that had such an effect on me, I was unsure. For it is often said that love makes one weak.

Some days I feel that Aya deserved him more than I, and want nothing but to wipe my hands clean of him but found that I could not. I needed him, whether I liked to admit it or not. He'd long ago chosen and claimed me as his own. There was no escape.

The first instance that I had come to truly _know_ Kusano was on a mission in our early days as chuunin and in the strangest way possible. We were but eleven at the time and since Aya had yet to pass her chunnin exam, we'd been sent to the Snow Country on a simple mission to retrieve a kidnapped child of a Fire Country merchant. Simple as it sounded, the mission was complicated by the incidence of abnormally high levels of snow fall and the captors' acquirement of mercenary shinobi guards.

"How's everyone?"

"Fine."

"Great"

"Fine…"

We weren't fine, the wind blowing off the frozen snow chapped and burned our cheeks like knives cutting into our faces. Each step was progressively harder to take than the previous. Hungry, wounded, cold and drained of chakra – Kusano and I supported the heavily wounded Aya between the two of us while Yuhi-sensei carried the child in his arms – we were a sorry bunch.

"I can walk by myself guys…" Aya protested and struggled from our grasps. When we refused to let go, insisting that she was unwell she sat down childishly in the snow, bringing us down with her. Kusano sighed and stumbled painfully to his feet, cursing under his breath about his broken ribs. – –

Something caught my eye.

Squinting, I stumbled to my feet and began to head towards what I thought I saw almost as if I was being drawn there against my will.

"Shizumi!"

I continued to walk, ignoring the voices that called to me. Whatever it was, I had to find it. "It" was a wolf cub lying in the snow, red with blood. It whimpered when I reached out to stroke the silver fur of his head to let me know he was still alive, barely. His hind leg was broken, the broken bone protruding from the hide. "Poor thing" I muttered as I scooped it up in my arms.

"What did you do that for?!" Kusano exclaimed angrily.

I shrugged, "it was injured"

"Um…Shizumi. We're also injured" Aya muttered under her breath. I opened my mouth to protest – how could she side with Kusano and turn on me?! Then I remembered. He was her goal, nothing mattered more than gaining his attention. Ignoring them, I knelt down in the snow and unpacked some of my first aid kit to treat the wounded cub. Aya shook her head then walked on, Yuhi-sensei and Kusano followed, "Shizumi, we're leaving you behind!" Yuhi-sensei yelled.

I sighed, "I'll catch up!"

I'd only begun to bandage the bone when I felt a tugging at my sleeve, had Aya or Yuhi-sensei come back to fetch me? It was Kusano (ugh..) "Let's go!" he snapped.

"Let me finish, it will only be –"

A sickening crunch made me drop my words mid sentence. We turned and scanned the area around us, nothing at first – – then we saw it. A white frozen wave was crashing down toward of us – eating the trees and ploughing through the frozen ground.

AVALANCHE!

I ran, nothing else came to mind at the moment – only to escape and get out alive. "Yuhi-sensei! Aya-chan!" I screamed. I was so close, they were only a few more metres away….Kusano – shit! I'd left him behind. He couldn't run, his rib cage had collapsed. I panicked, would I make it in time? If I didn't…

….dammit, I had to try.

I ran faster, kicking snow everywhere as I went, rushing back to Kusano who was stumble toward me and clutching his side with one hand. The wave was approaching… we were not going to make it. Then it came, engulfed us and carried us downward in its deadly embrace. I clung on to the cub with one arm and grappled desperately for Kusano with my free hand. Out stiff gloved fingers touched, tangled then lost one another again. There was nothing but snow – white and cold – crushing, churning, suffocating….

….then I fell, down. Very far down.

I opened my eyes to find Kusano staring back at me, his face lightly golden in the dim light of a small fire fuelled by broken tree branches near by. The wolf cub lay curled at my feet, the heaving of his small body told me that he was still alive.

"Finally awake?" he scoffed.

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes groggily.

"You hit you head on the way down" he told me.

I scanned the area around me – all was white, snow. We were trapped inside a crevice in the mountain side with hundreds, possibly thousands of pounds of ice and snow above our heads.

"Put out the fire"

"What?"

"Put it out"

"I'm melting ice for drinking water; we'll die of dehydration otherwise"

I shake my head, "we'll die sooner of suffocation" I snapped, "put it out"

He nodded, "You're right. Fire consumes oxygen, why didn't I think of that?"

I shrugged and leaned my head back against the wall of ice and hugged my knees into my chest shivering uncontrollably, my head throbbed and every limb in my body ached. A mug was thrust in front of my face, "drink"

"Th..thanks" I mutter through chattering teeth as I accepted it with both hands. I took a sip, cold water, but water nevertheless. My chapped lips and swollen tongue welcomed the icy fluid. When I had my fill, I bent over and pressed the rim of the mug to the cub's frozen muzzle. He lapped greedily at the water inside until it was gone. Picking him up, I stretched out my legs and set him down in my lap.

Without knowledge of the day or time, a single minute may very well have been an eternity. Secretly, I wished I'd died in the avalanche rather than being left to suffer like this. My feet and legs had long since lost sensation from the numbing cold, even the cub had ceased all movement; his breathing quickened and became shallow….would he survive? Would I survive? And what of my team mate who sat on the other end of the enclosure?

"How are doing?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"F…Fine"

He got to his feet slowly and approached me with equal haste, "cold?"

"No…I…I'm fine"

Kusano chuckled then sat down beside me, throwing his blanket over the both of us, "move closer, we can keep warm off each other's body heat"

I shrugged, "why bother…we're as good as dead"

"Why?"

"No food, no water and soon, no air"

He suddenly leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my frozen cheek, "Don't say terrible things like that, Shizu-chan. We have to at least try…"

I turned my eyes away in embarrassment and nodded, "yea…I guess"

In silence, we held one another tightly as if we would fall off the edge of the earth if we ever let go. As time passed, quick and shallow breaths turned into gasps. The moment I feared was coming to pass. Death by freezing would have been a painless death but suffocation was a painful and slow death…. I tasted blood, windpipe raw from the cold; my lungs were burning for air.

"Shizum!"

I was too tired, too exhausted to open my eyes.

Had I died? Was this heaven?

"Wake up!!!"

No. That was Father's voice.

"Oto-sama?"

"The nurse said you are well enough to be discharged today"

I nodded slowly; did I want to go home? Father had bothered to come to fetch me – it was the first time in years he'd paid me any attention – I most definitely had to.

"Thirsty? Would you like something to drink?

I nodded slowly, "Arigato, Oto-sama; I would like that"

He poured me a cupful of ginger tea from a thermos sitting on my nightstand and placed it in my hands. "Drink this, I'll be back shortly…must find the nurse so I can sign the discharge papers"

Sipping the warm drink in silence, I smiled to myself.

NOT QUITE FINISHED


End file.
